Just Another Day
by Konstantinsen
Summary: It all began when reality broke on Remnant. Then the Agency came with their near inexhaustible army of ruthless soldiers. With the Kingdom of Vale fractured and occupied, the survivors on Patch get some unexpected help from two strangers who carry some answers to the reasons behind all this madness. [AU involving the fall of Beacon, the A.A.H.W., and Project Nexus]
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: I'm new to the RWBY fandom but I won't be staying long. This is a one-shot I wrote based on some ideas I've been tossing around in my head for a few weeks now. I'm sure I got some of the details wrong so feel free to correct me on that.**

* * *

It all began when reality broke.

The skies over Remnant cracked and shattered before their very eyes. Like eggshells, pieces of what was once air began to flake off and fall. Massive bolts of cascading light thundered from the abyss beyond the red atmosphere like lightning: deadly and unpredictable. Those who were vaporized were the lucky ones. The rest faced the truest definition of Hell.

Vale was the first to shatter. From there, the cracks spread throughout Remnant. Creatures once docile began to run amok and the Grimm... The Grimm had gotten worse.

First, the kingdoms tried to mend the cracks. But reality had proven to be too unstable. Their armies fragmented, order shuddered, and just when civilization teetered into anarchy, the Agency came.

* * *

Vale became a landscape marred by massive fissures and dotted by gloomy military facilities where the Agency conducted their vile Project Nexus. Humans, faunus, and Grimm were all fair game to them. Nothing was spared their experiments, or so claimed by those who managed to escape from them.

"I don't know who you are or who you work for..."

"As the saying goes..."

"The enemy of my enemy is...not worth the trouble."

Patch had so far remained unoccupied by the Agency. The combined efforts of Vale's surviving scratch defenders had thwarted two major offensives and countless skirmishes against their seemingly inexhaustible horde of masked goons. But it was only a matter of time until the island would fall.

"Where did you learn to fight?"

"A place you've probably never heard of before."

The Agency came in force during the night. A coordinated land and air assault that nearly overwhelmed their primary defenses, pushing them to the line of trenches they had dug around Signal Academy. The Agency's troops showed no mercy, executing the wounded and surrendering those who surrendered to Project Nexus.

"Glynda Goodwitch, former Beacon staffer."

"Sanford."

"Deimos."

It was nothing short of a miracle that quickly turned into a bloodbath. The Agency was pounding at Signal's doors when a relief force fell on their rear flank. From behind the beleaguered academy's walls, the defenders watched as explosions ripped through their enemies. Then a pair emerged out of the smoke, one brandishing a large hook while the other lit his cigarette with his thumb.

"I take it you will be heading to Beacon. Is that the case?"

"That's all you need to know, ma'am."

They ripped through the Agency's troops like a buzz saw. It was sickening. Bodies torn apart by accurate small arms fire, limbs sent flying against the palisades, and the near endless sprays of blood that came with every deathblow. These men—their rescuers—were efficient, brutal, and merciless: the epitome of cold-blooded killers. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing did not help the defenders' morale...or their stomachs.

"Alright. We'll do it but there's no guarantees."

"We may or may not be back."

"I trust that you will return."

Sanford huffed. "Now that's optimism."

Deimos shook his head and crushed his cigarette under his boot. "I bet you fifty bucks they're still alive when we get there."

"Deal."

Shortly after they departed Signal, Taiyang confronted Glynda and demanded, "Did they wager on my daughters' lives? A damn bet?"

"If they did, what would you have done? Throw away our only chance of even knowing if they're still alive?"

"Those mercenaries... They fight like the Agency," remarked Peter Port.

"They're ruthless," Glynda admitted. "Who else is better suited to go up against the Agency than those who know how to properly fight them?"

"And win," Ozpin echoed, casting a contemplative silence on everyone else present.

* * *

When the Agency swarmed Beacon, Ruby had been one of the few students stubborn enough to disobey the order to evacuate. And she paid for it. Seeing many of her classmates getting shot up, Yang losing her arm, and the other teams nearly ceasing to exist had left her in a sea of guilt. It wasn't her idea to stay behind but she felt like it was.

She awoke tied to a gurney while needles poked incessantly at her sides. A bunch of guys in lab coats looked her over then nodded to some men in red shades and black suits. Ruby was numb as they locked her in a cell with nothing but the clothes on her back. By the time she could stand up, she was too weak to make a dent against the glass panes that kept her sealed. Whatever it was they pumped into her was effective at keeping her from using her Semblance, let alone feel her Aura.

Ruby did not know how long she stayed there. But it was brief. Because the next thing she remembered was a lot of shooting, a lot of blood, and a guy wearing a cap and a black coat shattering the glass with his automatic rifle.

"Come on, kid! Let's go!"

"Yang. We have to find Yang," she croaked.

Needless to say, when she recovered enough to draw on her Semblance, she deviated away from her savior to try to find Yang only to get dragged out of trouble again. What she saw when she wandered into those rooms were truly unthinkable. Humans, faunus, and Grimm dissected on operating tables, stored in vats, their bodies deformed and mutilated with jutting steel implants.

Ruby needed Crescent Rose. She knew they stored it somewhere. The armory, perhaps? Instead, of the armory, she stumbled into—or rather walked into—a giant with stakes rammed up his chin pointing an oversized pistol at her. It took a lot to dodge his shots and his blows until magnum rounds ripped into his face. She turned to see the man in the coat looking cross. He reached into the hallway behind him and tossed her Crescent Rose.

"Follow me and don't stray," he growled then lit the cigarette in his mouth only his thumb.

A file they later found revealed that Yang Xiao Long, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren had been transferred elsewhere along with the other teams.

* * *

Jaune was screaming as he repeatedly smashed the loose pipe against the vat. Inside, in a liquid solution floated a nude Pyrrha. She looked tranquil as she slept despite the hideous visor over her chin and the hoses running from the cuffs on her arms and feet. The glass was starting to crack. A few more swings and...

A gunshot rendered him frozen. The vat shattered, spilling the room with chemical preservatives. Jaune dropped the pipe to catch Pyrrha in his arms. He turned his head behind him to see a hook slice through the cranium of one of those damn masked Agency soldiers.

"Stay back!" the blonde hollered hoarsely, reaching for the bent pipe.

"Easy, kid. Your girlfriend alright?"

"She's...she's not my girlfriend."

The man with the shades shrugged as he pulled the hook off the dead man's head with a sickening crunch. "Be careful when you pull the tubes out of her."

"I..I got it. Thanks."

"Here. Let me help."

Jaune was apprehensive but the stranger was decent enough to respect Pyrrha's modesty. When the cuffs fell off and the hoses came undone, Pyrrha had the same scars on her wrists and ankles as he did. Unlike her, the blonde had managed to free himself of his restraints and escape his captors before he could be stuffed into a test tube. If this was just a taste of Project Nexus...

He shuddered.

"You carry her. Find her some clothes, too."

Jaune nodded as he followed the man with the hook down a hallway full of corpses with a comatose Pyrrha in his arms. All the while, he tried to keep his stomach from retching at the sight of all the dead.

* * *

"I can't believe we got roped into this shit," Sanford groused.

"You agreed to it," Deimos snarked.

"I agreed to a retrieval. Not a damn rescue mission."

"That Goodwitch played you good, huh."

Sanford eyed his partner who had his hands on the wheel of the cargo truck they had commandeered for their exfiltration from Beacon. "You bought her shit, too, you know."

"Well, I wasn't negotiating with her back at the fucking island." The truck bounced hard against a speed bump but kept cruising smoothly over the cobblestones. "Damn. Didn't see that one."

Sanford peeked through the eyehole above the upholstery behind them. The former students of Beacon were busy rubbing their backsides from where they landed. "You kids okay back there?"

Groans chorused back at him and he slipped back to watch the road.

"You owe me fifty bucks, by the way," Deimos chimed.

Sanford unclasped his hook as the lights from a checkpoint flashed through the evening mist. "I'll pay you later. We still got to get to the docks."

* * *

It was an interesting sight, to be sure. Sanford and Deimos had already eviscerated three platoons of agents when out of the truck burst Beacon's finest. That Ruby kid using her scythe-gun, that blonde Jaune swinging his sword-turned-shield-thing, and a bunch of other stuff that would have existed in a fantasy story all came crashing against the waves of Agency troops that rushed them.

When the fight was over, most of agents were either out cold or blasted several miles away. Sanford tapped Deimos on his shoulder after he summarily executed a few stragglers. The kids were mortified.

"Was that necessary?" asked a shaky Jaune.

Deimos sighed and stepped over the rest of the unconscious agents. "Fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

By the time they had secured viable transport to Patch, Sanford and Deimos noticed that the students were keeping a good distance from them. If they dealt with those Grimm freaks on a daily basis—or so they were informed—then it didn't make sense that they couldn't comprehend with all the carnage that seemed so normal to them. Then again, this wasn't Nevada.

"You mentioned something about retrieval," that cat-girl Blake said after a long silent while.

"What?"

"Retrieval. You didn't come to Beacon to rescue us, didn't you," she pressed, a menacing glint flashing in her eyes. "What were you looking for back at the academy?"

"Should we tell them?" Deimos asked, pulling a fresh cigarette out of his packet and lighting it with his thumb.

Sanford shrugged, his hands occupied with piloting the bullhead just above the altitude and effective range of the Agency's choppers. Not that there were any were after them. "Fuck it. The cat's already out of the bag. Besides. Patch looks like a nice place to branch out."

"It was a retrieval-slash-search-and-destroy mission," Deimos prattled. "The facility needed to go. Some lady named Goodwitch told us there _could be_ hostages that needed rescuing, though."

"We honestly didn't expect any of you to still be alive," Sanford added nonchalantly.

A quiet minute followed with nothing but the humming of the bullhead's engines.

"Who are you?" Pyrrha asked.

"Same thing I'd like to ask you people," Deimos replied with a puff of smoke. "Didn't think a place like this existed. Guess Nevada isn't the only part of the world that got fucked up."

"Nevada? What's Nevada?" inquired Ruby.

"Where we come from," Sanford answered.

"Where the Agency comes from, don't they," bunny-girl Velvet added.

Sanford and Deimos eyed the five students in front of them, all looking for answers. Until their gaze settled on the sixth—a girl seated in the back, her pale skin and long snow-white hair dangling over her face. Deimos nodded as he made another drag on his cigarette. "Yeah. Back there, they're called the A.A.H.W. but I think it's more of a joke name that ended up being formalized because they used it so much in their recruitment posters."

Blake folded her arms. "What does A.A.H.W. mean?"

"Association Against Hank Wimbleton."

"Against who?"

"Old man Hank," Sanford said. "That old coot's been fighting the Agency before they became the Agency."

Deimos chuckled. "So they took to naming themselves against him because he was their public enemy number one."

"Hank Wingle-steen?"

"Wimbleton." The two men from Nevada peered through the window panes. "There's Patch."

"Looks like they've been busy," Deimos remarked.

"Oh, no! Signal," Ruby breathed. "W-what happened?"

Sanford glanced at the teen, wondering if he should ask her whether she was worried about all the dead that had been piled outside the academy's make-shift bulwarks or the fact that Signal looked like it had been through an air raid. Or both.

"Come on, kids," Deimos hollered as the bullfrog descended onto the landing pad. He tapped that Schnee loner on the shoulder, earning himself a glare. "Let's go. That Goodwitch lady is expecting you."

* * *

Weiss took awhile to adjust to their new allies. The Movement, as Ozpin called them, comprised of a handful of Nevada mercenaries intent on stopping Project Nexus and, generally, dealing as much damage as possible to the Agency. Two of their best men, Sanford and Deimos, had proven to be (murderous) formidable (monstrous) fighters capable of using only their fists and whatever hardware they picked up along the way.

They even regarded Dust as...simply dust. Something to blow away in the wind. Nothing more than an eye irritant most useful in a brawl. Seriously, where did these people come from that Dust, Semblance, Aura, and everything that Remnant was founded on simply did not exist? Where was this Nevada that killing each other was so commonplace?

"Still moping, huh."

Weiss looked up to see Deimos flicking his thumb, conjuring a flame small enough to light the end of his cigarette. "What do you want?"

"I take it this isn't the first time this happened, eh?"

When reality just stopped working and everything that didn't make sense suddenly made even more sense? Weiss was in no mood to talk about it.

"Your friend Yang is in a compound east of Vale. Her and a bunch of your classmates. Thought I'd tell you."

"And I suppose Ruby wants to tag along."

"Yeah. She's feisty. Can't blame her though. Sister, right?"

"They're close."

"You're concerned."

"I'm worried."

"If you ask me, she's better off staying here. The Agency isn't some army of Grimm freaks or whatever it is you call those white-faced wildlife." Deimos turned his head away to keep the smoke from blowing into her. "They're trained killers. Professionals who are die-hard loyal to their leaders."

"I suppose you aren't the same?" Weiss wanted to point out that what they saw during their rescue mission was nothing short of a massacre. Who does that to people? How much more if they were faunus? Brutality like that had been put behind them since the Great War!

"They train you kids to hunt, right?"

"I'm a Huntress, yes."

"So you know that to track your prey, you have to be your prey."

Weiss held up her chin. "I don't stoop down to the level of Grimm."

Deimos shrugged. "If that's how you see it, good luck then."

"Have you even hunted any Grimm?"

The man made a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it into the bin. "They're a pain in the ass but killable." He then left.

Weiss later found Ruby in Signal's dormitories brooding and fuming. Jaune, Pyrrha, and Velvet had no luck calming her down. Sanford and Deimos had left with a few Movement fighters to go east where Yang and the others were being held. They all knew what was going on over there: Project Nexus.

All the horror stories from that nightmare filtered through the grapevine that it was becoming common knowledge to everyone in Remnant. Atlas's clandestine research seemed ethical compared to Project Nexus. And Weiss knew that Ruby could barely keep her mind off what fresh hell they were inflicting on her sister and everyone else. If she was in her place, she would have wanted to go on that mission.

So that night, the remnants of teams RWBY, JNPR, and CFVY boarded a bullhead and shakily flew it to Vale to help free their own. Of course, Ozpin had provided them with the coordinates to the facility but Glynda did not need to know that.

* * *

"So you think they moved the Relic there?" Sanford asked, seeing Vale's tattered landscape below through the window panes of the airship.

"It sure as hell wasn't at Beacon. Sure as hell weren't any Maidens, either," Deimos grumbled.

"You willing to bet one of those kids over there is a Maiden?"

The smoker let a small smile creep on his lips. "Thirty bucks one if them is a Maiden."

"Sixty if there's a Relic."

"Deal."

* * *

 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: January 26, 2018**

 **LAST EDITED: January 28, 2018**

 **INITIALLY UPLOADED: January 27, 2018**

 **NOTE: I don't know much about RWBY but I'm no stranger to Rooster Teeth's other content (I watch them for their gaming videos). I am, however, a decade-long fan of Madness Combat.**

 **This is a one-shot for now. I don't plan on adding any more so I'm keeping this as it is. But I will make some edits in regards to details of the RWBY universe because I'm not very well versed there. So let me know what you think. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE: I'm sorry, I can't help it. I was itching to write another chapter. Again, correct me if I got some details wrong.**

* * *

Glynda was more concerned than baffled. "How were they able to move the _entire_ Vault out from underneath Beacon? How is that even possible?"

"Our friends tell us that the Agency can alter reality using a device called the Improbability Drive," Ozpin replied calmly.

On the screen, General Ironwood tapped his chin. "Improbability Drive... A device that can mend reality to one's own needs?"

The former headmaster of Beacon Academy (or what was left of it) nodded. "Of curious note is that both the Agency and the Movement are aware of our little secrets. Two highly skilled Movement operators, Sanford and Deimos, have been tasked with locating and securing the Vault. On the other hand, their best operator, whom they have yet to reveal to us, has been conducting punitive operations against the Agency to divert their main strength elsewhere."

"If the Agency could bend reality that easily, why then have they not breached the Vault, let alone the sanctum housing the Relic?" Ironwood inquired.

"If they can twist reality like clay," added a sullen Qrow Branwen, "Why then have they not taken over Remnant?"

"The Movement suspects that the Improbability Drive is still in its infancy stages and, as of yet, incapable of being fully exploited. In addition, they allege that it has been severely damaged multiple times in the past, further reducing its effectiveness."

Glynda cleared her throat. "With regards to the Movement, I have negotiated with the Movement leadership and they have agreed to liberate any prisoners their operators encounter. We hope that the significance of this secondary objective would override their primary."

"And what if they do accomplish their primary objective? Can we trust them with something as sensitive as that?"

Ozpin sipped at his mug. "The Movement has been quite amiable and very cooperative so far. Their numbers are few, though, and I doubt they would be willing to risk betraying us."

Qrow clicked his tongue. "Why then would they want to have the Fall Maiden or the Relic?"

"Perhaps to deny the Agency use of either." Ozpin let the silence last for another moment before continuing, "As of this time, the Movement's only reasoning is to prevent the Agency from empowering itself. They don't seem to show any other interest."

Ironwood pondered the statement before asking, "And what of the Improbability Drive?"

Glynda and Qrow looked to Ozpin. "It is beyond our grasp for now."

* * *

Project Nexus was the worst that could happen to Yang. Losing her sister, her friends, and her classmates devastated her but the final nail in the coffin was Beacon falling to the hordes of Agency soldiers pouring in through the cracks in the sky.

It was surreal. Buildings simply fell through the clouds, landing with solid grace onto the ground while its steel doors opened to allow masked gunmen to storm through. Most everyone evacuated. The rest who stayed behind were either ripped apart by their sheer firepower or subdued and subjected to Project Nexus.

Which was where she was right now. Strapped onto a table while mad scientists and their machines went to work on the robotic arm they built into the stub of her shoulder to replace the one that got blown off by a giant freak of nature with an oversized shotgun.

"Doc, she's awake."

"Hm? You didn't forget the anesthetic?"

They denied her her Aura. They deprived her use of her Semblance. They took away her damn arm. These drugs they were pumping into her were making her explode inside and she couldn't do anything about it. They were turning her into a monster. Why? For what reason? To kill? To destroy?

"No, sir. We applied enough to knock out a horse. Look at her pupils. She's fully aware."

"But not feeling any pain. Interesting."

Yang wanted to spit in their faces but she was too numb. She knew that after this, she would be tossed back into the arena where she would have to fight off another horde of Agency experiment failures. She barely survived the last three waves with a zombie nearly tearing a hole in her neck and now she was hearing that they were going to throw in those armored gun-toting golems with the stakes up their chins in her next fight.

She hated it. She hated this. She wanted it all to end. She wanted to...to just die.

"Doc, she's undergoing lacrimation."

"Side effect?"

"I don't think so."

"Huh. Cute."

* * *

After nearly crashing the bullhead a few times, Weiss had managed to attain cruising altitude halfway over Vale. For some reason, they were not being hounded by the Agency despite being the only thing in the air right now. No birds, no ships, just a single bullhead in an empty red sky.

It was creepy.

"Look there!"

The students looked to where Velvet was pointing to see the airship that carried the Movement rescue team burning up in the middle of a vast complex. There was no activity on the ground but it was clear Sanford and Deimos had made their presence known and were probably fighting tooth and nail somewhere underneath them.

"Any place to land?"

"I can't see anything." Weiss squinted until she could make out the flashing lights on the roof of a smaller building. "Hold on, everyone!"

Ruby leapt out with Crescent Rose at the ready as soon as the bullhead touched down on the helipad. "Yang! Yang, we're coming!"

"Should we be, you know, stealthy?" Jaune said nervously.

"That's already out of the question," Blake remarked, sprinting after her team leader.

Pyrrha was already hot on her heels. "Let's go. Before we lose our element of surprise."

"Or Ruby gets us in even more trouble," Weiss muttered.

* * *

"Hang in there, buddy!"

Deimos spat out more blood, clutching his side and leaving a visible trail while Sanford guided him down the corridor. "Twelve gauge hurts like hell, man."

Sanford gave him a quick glance. "It's only a flesh wound."

The smoker chuckled. "One hell of a flesh wound."

"A twelve gauge flesh wound won't kill you."

Deimos grunted. "You're right. I guess I've been through worse."

* * *

There was a lot of shooting echoing through the walls. Ruby had to compose herself after speeding past a lot of dead bodies. A lot of fresh kills. And then she saw what she wanted to forget back at Beacon: live experiments.

Was this a by-product of Project Nexus? Zombies? No, it got worse after Ruby cleaved through them.

"Ruby! Wait up!"

She paused to let her fellow students catch their breath.

"Don't run off like that!" Weiss growled.

"What the..." Jaune bit his tongue to keep from gagging. In front of them were gurneys where Grimm and faunus had their insides cut open for all to see. How they managed to keep the Grimm alive even after they peeled them like bananas, they would rather not know. But the faunus were all dead—most looked like they bled out. Some were White Fang members after Pyrrha found a box full of their iconic masks.

The Grimm may have been soulless feral husks but these were people who had lives, who had souls that were taken from them in probably the most painful way possible regardless of who they were affiliated or what harm they did.

More shooting. And then voices. Sanford and Deimos. They were nearby. But no hint of Yang or the others.

"This way," Ruby beckoned, speeding into a warehouse.

"Ruby!"

* * *

The arena shut down as they were preparing to wheel Yang in.

"It's them! They broke in somehow!" she heard a guard yell.

Who was he talking about? A rescue team? Ironwood's enhanced knights storming in? She got her answer quickly when the orderlies wheeled her back into the holding cells only to be slaughtered by a shadow that had just dropped from the ceiling.

He was quick and brutal. The responding soldiers in their yellow visors were cut down with ease. And then he turned around to look at her. Yang struggled against her leather restraints, feeling those bright red-tinted glasses boring into her. Blood dripped from his sword while smoke still wafted off the barrel of his gun. There was a flash and she closed her eyes, bracing for the worst...only to drop onto the ground.

"You're not the Fall Maiden," she heard him mutter behind his mask.

She got up, feeling for her robotic arm. "T-thanks."

"Exit's that way."

Yang could tell he was not going to follow her. "What about you?"

"I'm busy." With that, he backtracked into the shadows, his red-tinted glasses being the last thing she saw before she sprinted the other way.

* * *

The clinic was clear so far. Not a single Agency grunt had crossed their paths in a long while. Sanford helped Deimos onto the gurney and was about to go rummaging through the cabinets when the doors burst open and rose petals flaked onto the floor.

"Ruby?" Deimos took his hand off his holster while Sanford guffawed at the teenager standing in the middle of the room with her massive gun-scythe chipped into the floor.

"Deimos! You're hurt!"

The smoker fed himself a new cigarette. "No shit, Sherlock."

Sanford frowned when the clinic became crowded with the same people they went through all the trouble to rescue. "Great. More casualties."

"Excuse me?" Weiss hissed.

"Where are your comrades?" Pyrrha asked.

"We all ditched before the airship crashed. Linked up with Sanford but haven't had any contact with the others," Deimos grunted as he pulled up his shirt to wrap more bandages around his midsection. "We just hope they're still alive and looking for the holding cells your friends are in."

"That looks serious!" Velvet exclaimed. "Can you walk?"

The smoker gave her a disbelieving look, his unlit cigarette hanging limply off his lips. "Is this the first time you've seen a man dress his own bullet wound?"

"You got shot?"

Sanford groaned. "This is why you kids should have stayed at Patch."

Ruby scowled. "I can't just sit by and let you guys get massacred trying to save my sister."

"You came here to save Yang," Jaune remarked.

"And we came here to save our teammates, right?" Blake harped.

Sanford and Deimos gave them very vexed looks. Their mission just got even more complicated.

* * *

Yang was lost. Her landmarks didn't help: vats filled with humanoid _things_ , dead bodies, pipes and all sorts of weird machinery. Her sprint had slowed to a stroll. She needed directions and most of the crap on the walls were recruitment posters and (de)motivational propaganda slogans. L337 Crew? Association Against Hank Wimbleton? Who were these guys?

"Okay, take a breather," she said to an empty warehouse. "Exit, exit, exit. Got to be a sign or a door..."

The double doors in front of her looked promising. The keypad next to it wasn't.

"Damn it. Open, will you!"

It opened. Revealing an entire platoon of yellow-masked soldiers aiming their guns at her. Yang raised her arms, her robotic shinguards activating. Even without her Aura or her Semblance, she could manage against a few bullets but with this much firepower, she was not even sure she could hold out for a few seconds before one of these assholes got lucky.

"Sir, Subject B-009 has been found!"

"Neutralize her!"

"Engaging!"

The gunfire commenced. For half a of a second. Yang could see the shadow was back, standing in front of her and stemming the tide of bullets with his sword. This guy was skilled. He gave her a passing glance and she was impressed. Mister Red Shades was good.

Deadly good. Her smirk disappeared from her face when she saw him empty an entire clip from an automatic rifle into their faces like it was the most normal thing to do. Blood spattered everywhere and Yang had to wipe her face clean of it. Red Shades gave her his sword and pointed forwards. More goons were pouring out of the doors on the sides and headed straight for them.

"Wait! Mister! You're going to get—"

Yang could not believe her eyes. This man in black with the red-tinted shades gripped the first agent he saw and ripped his head off. He literally _ripped off_ a man's head off his shoulders and beat a dozen others to death with it. Her jaw felt slack at such an unorthodox and, she had to admit, very sickening tactic. Even worse, he proceeded to rip out a soldier's heart, his gloved hand completely going through his body armor. Who the hell was this guy?

"What?" he asked.

"Where's the exit?" she replied cautiously.

He shrugged then pointed at his sword. "You're going to use that?"

Yang shook her head and handed it back to him. She saw him twirl it around a bit then walk off.

"Don't lag behind."

She followed him, making sure she was a good solid five paces away.

* * *

They broke into the safe room where security feeds over this section of the facility were still operating on the monitors. Lots of movement, lots of corpses. And then a pair that caught everyone's attention.

"Holy shit. It's old man Hank," Sanford said with a proud smile.

"That's Yang!" Ruby pressed herself against the monitors. "But...her arm...did they..."

"They fixed it," Deimos said.

"Yang's got a robot arm now, huh," Jaune said.

"We have to go find her. What area is this?" Ruby demanded, her fingers hovering over the console.

Sanford tapped her on the shoulder. "She's with Hank. She'll be fine."

"What do you mean?"

"Trust me. She'll be fine."

The students eyed each other. Did Sanford mean Hank Wimbleton? Because this guy in the red-tinted shades looked dangerous. Very dangerous.

While Yang easily beat the daylights out of the soldiers that came their way, Hank simply murdered them. In any way he could. It didn't matter if he was using a sword, a gun, or his fists... He outright killed with ease. He even tore the head off of a full grown adult human being like he was a doll and clobbered several others to death with it. And Yang knew better to keep her distance because she was clearly not comfortable with it.

"Come on, we got to go," Sanford ordered.

Jaune gulped. "That guy's on our side, right?"

"Only if you don't piss him off," Deimos muttered while lighting his cigarette with his thumb.

* * *

The fresh outdoor air was the most wonderful thing to every grace Yang's senses. The scenery could have been beautiful without the red sky, the absence of the shattered moon or any celestial bodies, and the fact that there was an airship burning in the background. Still, it was good to be back on the surface.

"So...who are you?"

Red Shades paused and looked over her. "Hank."

"Nice to meet you, Hank. I'm Yang."

Hank hesitantly reciprocated the handshake. His gloved hand felt cold which sent shivers up the blonde's spine.

"Thanks for the rescue."

"You're welcome."

Yang tilted her head, savoring the breeze. "You said something about a Maiden?"

"Forget I mentioned it." Hank proceeded to wipe his sword clean with rag before sheathing it and arming himself with a gun that he picked up from a dead soldier. "You studied at Beacon."

Yang's eyes went wide. "You know about Beacon?"

"I just know the important things. Did the Agency find anything under Beacon? Anything significant?"

"No. None that I want to remember." She wanted to tell him how absurd it was that their buildings simply fell from the sky. "Maybe they found something, I don't know. Reality just...just stopped working. Random teleportation and all that crap... I'm sorry. I'm more concerned about my friends."

Hank stared at her. It made Yang nervous the way she saw her reflection in his red-tinted shades. Then he grunted and said, "Your classmates are still stuck underground."

The blonde could feel her anger bubbling up. "I know. I want to go back and save them but...I don't know... My sister, Ruby, she's..."

Hank was already descending back into the abyss that housed Project Nexus.

"Hey! Hank!"

"You can either help me or move on. Your choice," she heard him say.

Yang stood outside, staring deep into darkness behind the open doorway. She looked at her robotic arm, letting her fingers run down the cold steel. She could walk away from here, a survivor of Project Nexus. But Coco, Nora, Lie, Fox, Yatsuhashi, and everyone else were still somewhere deep underground, probably going through the same hell they put her through. Turning them into monsters. Into ruthless killers. Like Hank.

She lingered there for the longest time until she could feel her Aura recover...and ultimately see red petals floating in front of her. "Ruby?"

"Yang!"

"Ruby!"

The hug they gave each other was the warmest she ever had in a long, long while. After seeing her teammates as well as Jaune, Pyrrha, and Velvet alive and spared the horrors of Project Nexus, she felt reinvigorated. Needless to say, Yang gave Sanford and Deimos a solid greeting. With her robotic fist. They took it well.

* * *

Elsewhere in Sanus, Cinder collapsed onto her knees exhausted. The Agency's hordes were too much. Now here she was, her wrists bound by dark tendrils that forced her to gaze up at her opponent. Before her stood the hulking mass of burning shadow, his red eyes piercing into hers, flanked by his loyal and willingly expendable army of yellow-masked soldiers.

This Auditor...was a foe beyond words. Her blows did nothing but empower him. He absorbed the dead around him, mending any wounds she could inflict on him and augmenting his strength tenfold.

"Do not resist," an agent ordered before he jabbed a syringe into her bare arm. Before she slipped into unconsciousness, Cinder felt something she had never felt in a long time: fear.

* * *

 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: January 29, 2018**

 **LAST EDITED: February 1, 2018**

 **INITIALLY UPLOADED: February 1, 2018**

 **NOTE: Is it good? Does it make sense? Feedback is appreciated. I may or may not edit this. I don't know.**


End file.
